Scattered Recollection
by Elliemomo
Summary: There were seven of them. None knew of each other's existence; maybe they wouldn't care if they did. All that mattered was getting out. Getting out of the hellish art exhibit. And by all means- getting out alive. By Ellie.


**Scattered Recollections! A story by Ellie (who still couldn't be here right now, so Momo'll take the reigns)! This was an upload I had permission to post. It is a story for friends, based of of friends. Read it if you'd like! We don't own Ib or anything (but wouldn't it be cool if we did?)!**

Chapter 1: In The Dark

"Hello..?"

As if the dark weren't frightening enough, she could have sworn she had heard the sounds of footsteps reverberating through the hallways, as though bouncing from wall to wall. Why was she there?

She hadn't the slightest idea how she had gotten there, nor for what she had been there for in the first place. Her hands reached up and carefully gripped the keychain around her neck for a sense of security, blue eyes shifting around the place in a skittish manner.

"Hell-WAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She had been in the process of taking another step, but the moment her foot followed through, she was greeted by a crumpling sound of thin paper. That had been just the straw she needed to be riddled with terror. Her hand slowly left her keychain -which she had nearly choked herself with because of her iron grip-, and settled over her chest to simply feel the constant beating of a desperate beating of her heart.

Gulping down the risen lump in the middle of her throat, she reached down slowly and carefully, shaking as she flipped open the card she had just riddled with wrinkles. It was filled with words painted in blue, sloppily leaking and bleeding into other words. She'd need to read it quickly if she wished to understand:

"Demelza."

Her shoulders lurched up. As soon as she heard the sound of her own name. It seemed that at the same time she read it, it came through the room with a soft whisper. A chill was sent up her spine.

She hadn't the slightest idea why she was there, as said before, but with her given memory loss, she could remember her own name, and Demelza certainly was so.

"This rose a representation of life itself.

As the rose withers, so too will you wither and fade."

It was hard to tell whether that was an invitation or a well-thought-out, precariously-placed poem. Either way; 10/10 on the creepiness for certain.

She brushed her a few fallen strands of her white hair back before her ear, almost as though using the gesture as a cover for the fact that she was scared. There was no one around, thus no one to see her 'so-called' cover-up, but it was possible that she was even trying to hide her fear from herself.

Casting the note back to the ground where she had found it, she returned to standing, smoothing out her blue long shorts in yet another nervous gesture.

"What is that supposed to mean..?" She questioned to herself, pulling her jacket around her to try stifling the sudden chill she felt in the dark lower-floor hallway, "Why would I find this..?"

Her head lifted, and once again she scanned the direct area, "Hello?" Someone had to have come through there if she found a name with her note, right? Even if the note made no sense. Maybe someone was playing a trick on her! That would be the only reasonable explanation for something like this, right? Besides, she didn't remember any dark hallway like this... ever! She wasn't sure what her home looked like... or even if she had a home, but it wasn't anything this enormous right? This almost looked like some sort of institution, an-

WHY WAS IT SO COLD ALL OF A SUDDEN?

Her head upturned further, eyes gazing along the top of the ceiling.

"A vent?"

The way it moved was slightly peculiar, the shutters that lined the center swaying from side to side in a very cartoonic motion. The ceiling seemed to be covered in similar duplicates of the first vent, but the one directly above her seemed to be the only one blowing out any kind of air. How could one vent produce that much cold air?

Her fingers pressed against the frames of her glasses, pushing them onto her face before squinting her eyes to see into the distance.

"What is that..?" She questioned quietly to herself, her words expelling clouds of warm breath against the sudden frigidity. It was like there were little boxes around each vent. They didn't necessarily seem to be anything for protection reasons, or purpose-serving boundaries. They looked kind of like...

"Frames..? Are those... paintings?"

Immediately upon saying the words, the vents began to expel a blustery wind that pelted down upon her, dropping freezing pieces of ice along with it. Though taking a brief moment to hike her jacket up to cover her head, she ran, a large bead of sweat forming on her cheek, but quickly freezing and slipping off to shatter on the floor below. What on EARTH was happening!?

As she ran forward, she barged into a room.

It seemed safe from the cold wind outside, and if she wanted to avoid getting clocked with a few of those ice balls, she would have to hide out there for a while. She leaned against the wall, catching her breath and basking in the warmth. It was so welcomed that she never even took time to wonder how possible it was for the climate to change so drastically over the distance of a room's threshold.

Her hands rested against the wall, feeling pleased with the warmth while her eyes seemed to welcome the newfound light.

"Whatever this place is..." She murmured quietly to herself, peering up from behind her bangs in exasperation, "I don't like I... ah..."

Up atop a small table, much like a pedestal, and sitting within a filled vase, was a small rose of blue. It was standing tall and healthy, seeming to be cleanly cut from any vines that would normally accompany a flower such as this. If her life was represented by this rose... It would be sort of like Beauty and the Beast, right? That rose would need to be protected to sustain her own life?

"Who am I kidding..?"

That whole idea, as hopeful as it was, seemed completely far fetched. Who would ever believe that some little rose were relative to their life in any way? Even if it was, it would be best to leave it where it was. Her eyes took to the door of the room. She should probably leave and close the door behind her just in case. As soon as she moved to take the doorknob, a layer of frost surrounded the door, glimmering in the light and daring to be touched.

Goosebumps began to rise, her body receiving a quick shudder -and not just from the cold. She averted the door, peeking her head out to check the condition of the weather in the hall.

Immediately, she drew her head back inside as a blast of cold air seized its way into the room, carrying ice and snow with it. Her hands tucked over her head as she seeked refuge behind the bit of wall she had been leaning on earlier. When the wind subsided, she heard the sound of light tearing. To those that didn't have such good hearing, it would be a difficult thing to catch; however, she managed to notice.

Ever-so-carefully, she rose her head to peek between the spaces of her arms.

A petal of the rose slowly dropped from the rose, settling on the table. It seemed like a harmless thing... Well, until.

"Ah..." The feeling of pain wound around through her hand. It was so strange.. She clearly wasn't touched by anything that flew inside, and even if she had, snow and ice would hardly trigger such a stinging sensation. It was coming from her hand, and hesitant as she was, she reluctantly flipped it to see her palm. A fresh cut stretched from the base of her index finger across to the left bottom portion of her right palm.

She could feel her hand begin to shake. This wasn't normal. There was...

Slowly, she stepped up to the rose, inspecting it for a moment. She could see the torn petal, but it almost appeared to be mending. The water that lied below the rose emitted a soft glow, causing the petal to return as though it were never damaged in the first place.

"Does that mean my hand is..."

Gulping once more, she flinched back, raising her shoulder and closing one eye while slowly raising her hand up to see.

"Healed!" Expression contorting into immediate surprise, she shook her hand, flapped her hand, then held it up to her face in shock.

So then the rose really did symbolize life...

Had this not been an insane life or death experience, she would have expressed how magically amazing that was... But for now, things seemed to be far more serious. She took the rose into her hand, seeing as there were no thorns nor anything of the like to be concerned about.

"I have to take good care of this rose..." Demelza glanced over to vase that the wind had blown the fragile flower from, noting that it had been blown from the table and broken against the floor, "Because... who knows when I'll be able to restore it again..."

Now that that was that, it sounded like the gusts outside the door had finally subsided. To be sure, she took a look, but there were no signs that they had even existed. Even the door where frost had accumulated was now perfectly wooden and undamaged. This was going to be a worrisome...

* * *

Plip

Plop

Plip

Plop

Drop

Drop

Drop

Yellow eyes watched the water as it leaked through and opening from the ceiling. All she knew was that she had heard a crash there before, and then a bit of water had begun to stream from the roof. Luckily it was accumulating directly into the little empty vase that had been sitting on the table.

She glanced down at her yellow rose, which she had found all torn and slit outside of that locked pink door. The scuff marks around it almost made it seem as though it had been burned as well.

"If that card was right.." She trailed, glancing to the vase that she slowly approached, "Then this should fix everything, right?"

She dropped the rose into the vase, and immediately, a bright light came shining through the bit of water, engulfing the rose with a veil of illumination before fading away. She curiously tipped her head, then slowly approached, jaw falling slightly agape at the sight of the rose in full bloom and perfect condition.

This left her with only one question as she reached out to claim the rose she had healed. Who sent her that note of what to do? Whoever they were... Were they the ones that broke whatever that water holder was above? And if so... How did they get up there? What with all of the locked doors and blocked passageways?

She plucked the rose form the vase and into her hands, immediately being greeted thereafter by the sounds of splattering paint.

Flinching naturally, she slowly opened her eyes, peering from raised shoulders and a slightly down-tilted head.

" Y"

"Y o u

T h e

"

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she took a step back, reading the spaced out letters that lined the walls in yellow paint, leaking into one another messily.

"Wha..? How...? I did what you told me too! I put the rose in the vase!"

She couldn't just leave it there, right? If it represented her life, it would be safer to have it with her rather than unsupervised.

Looking up to the painting of a moon on the top of the wall, she noticed it gleam with a certain eerie light. When her heel touched against the threshold, the moon seemed to spin, growing smaller and smaller from the midground to the background of the picture before disappearing from view. The room was left dark.

Immediately, at the sound of a crashing, the black haired girl went blasting from the door, running out from the perpetual darkness that seemed to have been suddenly dropped upon the rose's former dwelling. She pulled the rose in closer to her, breath hiking up into shallowness.

* * *

Thump

Thump

Thump

The banging seemed to come from the other side of the gallery. The young, purple haired girl felt around through the room, which had suddenly become dark. The echoing sounds that came through what sounded like the hallway over would have been a fright to most. To her, who was currently walking around blind through the darkness, it was a welcoming sound. It let her know that she wasn't there alone, and that meant there was someone to help her.

"I sure hope he's hot..." She contemplated aloud, running her hands around to try finding a path. Her finger caught the cold feel of a solid metal, and running her hands further towards the middle, she could feel a canvas-like felt.

It emitted a faint glow for a moment. Then, a white orb began to appear, about the size of a mere period. Slowly, it grew and grew before it moved up to the right-hand corner of the picture, taking its place as what appeared to be a moon. Once there, it let out a blinding light that illuminated the entire room.

"Thank GO-"

Her words choked in her throat.

A room of dolls... Creepy dolls. She was NOT thankful for this.

Navigating slowly, she tried to tiptoe, hands out to keep her balance as she tiptoed around in a very particular way. If she could get through here without so much as nudging any of the dolls with her foot, she would be fine. Well, there was always the lingering problem that one of them may reach out and touch her instead... But she'd just ignore that possibility and burn that bridge when she got to it.

Easing around, she was halted by a dripping noise. Looking down in front of her, she bore notice to the puddle of red that stood in her path. A slow drip formed in rhythm, plopping down from the ceiling and accumulating in the puddle that only spread across the floor.

"Oh God.. Oh God... That's..." Her head eased up, and her terrorized expression began to ease into displeasure, "Paint."

"A Rose symbolizes life.

As it withers, so too will you wither and f?"

The last word was difficult to read. It was ran together and had suffered so much damage from dripping down into the puddle. Furrowing a brow, the red eyed girl decided to make her own interpretation.

"Wither and fuck? Like 'Fuck! I fucked up the word!"

Little did this Maija know that not every four letter word in the word that began with 'F' was automatically 'fuck'.

At least she DID realize that now was far from the time to be making jokes. She shuffled around the red puddle, not bothering to ask what the splattered paint could mean. Instead, she furthered herself to the end of the little maze, eyes focusing on the red rose that said unattended in the filled vase. She ushered herself up the stairs, and without a second thought, she decided this was it.

"So if that paint was a thing... I'm supposed to have this, right?"

She took the rose from a vase, and immediately across the table, noticed that the water had begun to spell something out.

'T-H-I-E-F'

Her eyes seem to bug out a bit, but she paid it no mind, rather her hand lowered and swiped the water from the table's surface instead. "Not if no one sees this..." She huffed, making sure every trace of the water away from the tabletop.

With evidence erased, she hopped down the stairs.

*Kur-Klunk*

"Huh?" Her head turned to the side, where she had heard that tumbler sound come from, and she noticed a door opened at the edge of the room, just a crack. Was it the smartest idea to just willingly had towards an open door in a place like this? Especially a door that wasn't opened before?

"Probably not..." Maija huffed quietly, flicking her purple hair to the side and out of her way with a jolt of her head, "But... Anything's better than this creepy dollhouse."


End file.
